


Cold Brew Coffee

by trackingthislamp



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, M/M, a lot of terrible flirting and lame jokes and sexual frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 05:39:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16299149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trackingthislamp/pseuds/trackingthislamp
Summary: Typical coffee shop AU. Five times Harrison met that cute customer and one time he spilled the entire cup of coffee on him.





	Cold Brew Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> this was first written in may and i, too, was shocked by how slow my writing pace is and how lazy i am. i apologise for any possible mistake because my brain was totally a mess writing this.
> 
> also, harrison sweetie, i'm so sorry

The boy showed up for the first time on a Wednesday morning, with drizzle and mist outside.

Harrison never enjoyed working in the morning, especially after procrastinating his economics papers to stay up at 1 am only to witness England losing 35-22 against New Zealand. Having to wake up at 7 and ride through the rain wasn’t helpful for boosting his mood either. Still, he forced himself up as he heard the door being pushed open.

The customer was standing by the condiment bar, wiping his wet hair with the napkins. _A newbie_ , Harrison thought to himself. Every regular customer knew the staff would offer a cup of hot water and a clean towel for a situation like that. But right now, the manager was not around, and Harrison was too lazy to offer any extra service.

He stood behind the counter, holding his chin while watching the brunette boy clumsily arranging himself. It was somehow entertaining for a drowsy morning like this. Harrison wondered how long it took for the boy to find this store, because it was only drizzling but the boy’s white t-shirt was all soaked in rain. The thin fabric could hardly cover his skin underneath, reflecting rosy colour under the balmy lights. And the lines of his body were completely revealed each time he moved.

Maybe the morning shift wasn’t really that bad.

This breakfast show continued without the performer’s awareness. Eventually, he stopped trying to dry himself up and decided it was more important to seek warmth for now. The boy rubbed his hands and sighed lightly. Then he emitted a small sneeze.

It took Harrison a few seconds to remember that he should probably say “bless you”, but the boy had already turned around.

“Morning.” Harrison greeted mechanically. The boy was looking up at the menu, brushing his damp fringe aside. He was holding two heavy textbooks in his arms, with his earbuds dangling around his shoulders. If he wasn’t carrying those books, his babyface might trick Harrison into thinking he’s only a secondary schooler. _Hot chocolate_ , a quick thought flashed through Harrison’s mind. This boy’s face suggested that he had never tried caffeine in his life and was only here to run from the rain. A cup of hot chocolate would definitely be his choice; with extra milk, probably. Might as well treat himself to a cranberry muffin. Or a cinnamon swirl, if the rain got heavier.

“Hello.” Noticing the boy was still quiet, Harrison raised his voice and put on a smile. “What would you like to order?”

He was expecting the boy to stutter or spend a couple minutes musing. However, the boy faced at him and smiled back. He looked like the type that jammed to Taylor Swift or Shawn Mendes, but Harrison was pretty sure what he heard from those earbuds was Kendrick Lamar. Suddenly, he realised there’s no way this boy would order a hot chocolate.

“Hi.” The boy replied in a blissful tone, “Could I have a double, non-fat, light foam, extra hot latte with a drizzle of sugar-free vanilla?” He tilted his head. A drop of water slid down and disappeared behind his ear. “Wait—actually, I’d have a triple one. Thanks.”

The grin on his face was so innocent yet so sly. Harrison wondered if it was the price of shamelessly staring at a stranger’s bare skin for over five minutes. “Uh.” He uttered, still thinking about hot chocolate and muffins. “Yeah, sure. Um, you’d like a…latte…with non-fat milk, light foam…and uh, caramel syrup?”

“It’s vanilla. Sugar-free, please.” The boy corrected him politely. His fringe fell off again, splattering small water drops on Harrison’s face as the boy brushed it back. “By the way, do you know which area is warmer? S’kinda just freezing here.”

Harrison’s finger hovered above the screen of register. All the staff training in his head had become so blurry. “Huh? Oh, um, you can take the ones by the window. It’s at a distance from to the air-con.” He replied, “And, uh, would you like anything to eat?”

“Nah thanks.” The boy took a quick glance at the display fridge and shrugged. Harrison wished he could stop smiling like that. “I mean I would love to, but I’m on a low-carb diet. Tryna get fit, you know.”

 _You are motherfucking fit._ Harrison almost blurt it out, and he had to contain himself by faking a cough. The boy’s t-shirt had almost dried out, but his figure was still exposed beneath the bright lights. And Harrison almost forgot he hadn’t even finished keying the order yet.

“So, you’re an athlete, I suppose?” asked Harrison, trying to buy himself more time before he recollected how the machine worked.

“A dancer, actually.” The boy blinked his eyes, giggling. “Do I look like one to you, though?”

He’s a diva. Harrison should have seen that coming.

 

The second time Harrison met that boy was exactly a week later. He was late for work, spending the whole night watching _Buzzfeed Unsolved_ despite knowing he would regret it in the morning. “Can’t believe you left your best friend dealing with this shit load of work alone!” Jacob was nagging so loud that Harrison could even hear his complaint in the staff room, “You owe me once, Osterfield!”

This was the third time of the month that Jacob had to cover for him, and Harrison couldn’t tell if his friend was playing angry or being upset for real. He put on the apron hastily and walked out of the door with an impish smirk on his face. “Fine, how about I take you out for dinner tonight, my darling?”

“Pardon?”

But Jacob had already left to clean up the tables. The only one by the counter was the familiar babyface, except he was in black this time, and, well, he’s not wet.

“Uh-sorry. I was joking with my co-worker.” Harrison explained. His voice was in a weird pitch. “Latte with sugar-free vanilla, again?” He lowered his head, trying to divert the topic.

“Hey—you remember me!” The boy’s face lightened up. “I remember you, too.”

Harrison could feel his own cheeks burning. “Well, I keep all customers in my mind.” He lied, “that’s a barista’s job.”

“Oh great. I was afraid it’s because I’m a pain in ass with my specific preference.” The boy beamed a smile, one that Harrison wished he could stop putting on. “Do you need some reminders? Christ, I hope I’m not annoying you.”

Without a warning, the brunette boy leaned closer to the counter to look at the screen. And Harrison nearly flipped the register over.

“No worries. I’m good.” He’s not. With the boy’s face only two coffee cups away, Harrison’s head stopped functioning again. The boy’s hair looked much softer and fluffier on a sunny day, but his habit of brushing his fringe remained. Harrison took a deep breath, trying to focus on his job instead of imagining running his fingers through those curls.

“Of course.” The boy grinned at him. “You’re professional.”

Maybe it’s only in his head, but every word coming between those lips just sound mildly sexual in Harrison’s ears. _Could he maybe, like, shut up for a minute?_ He tried not to think about any possible way to keep the boy’s mouth occupied, because right now there were too many distractions at once. The boy was still leaning against the counter, scanning around the store leisurely. And Harrison could see those collarbones from the corner of his eyes, along with those forearms wrapped by the slim-fit tee. And _fuck’s sake_ , he’s wearing cologne. _What kind of college dude wears cologne?_

A part of him wondered if the boy was doing it all on purpose, or it’s just the unrealistic expectation given by his hormone. Harrison looked up to search for his best friend. He needed someone to take care of this business so that he could go calm himself down for a moment. But Jacob was preoccupied with some girls at the corner who were laughing at his funny jokes, while Harrison was alone being nothing but completely helpless.

“Oh wait, sorry. Can you fill it into the takeout cup? Gotta go soon.”

“Not staying this time?” Harrison asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Group project. Can’t skip the discussion.” He made a grimace, then drifting his eyes to Harrison’s name tag. “Nice to see you again though, Harrison.”

Right behind the coffee grinder, Harrison burned his fingers while pouring the coffee into the cup. But the boy was too busy checking the liquorice wheels on the counter to notice the accident caused by him.

 _That’s not fair_. Harrison held back his tears and the urge to curse, dipping his fingers into the iced water. The boy didn’t even give him his name.

 

The fact that Harrison could recognise the aroma of white musk in a house full of brewed coffee’s fragrance was a little concerning, even though it was the least problem he needed to worry about when that boy walked in the door again on the Wednesday morning.

“Hey!” The boy bloomed a big smile on his face, greeting at Harrison in a cheerful tone. The customer in front of him was still making the order, but he didn’t seem to care about it. “I was wondering if I could meet you today.”

Harrison almost blurt out a “me too”. Luckily the customer was handing him the cash, so he could use it as an excuse to ignore the boy. He pretended to count the changes behind the register, taking a quick glimpse at the boy’s outfit today. He was wearing a button-up shirt with palm leaf prints, tucking inside the slim jeans that wrapped around his thighs and the curvy line drawing down from his spine. The boy didn’t get that much of booty as Harrison usually would appreciate, but the idea of putting his hands above it was still kind of alluring.

It was the customer’s impatient cough that brought him back to the reality. Harrison apologised and continued with his duty, biting his lips in shame of those thoughts. Usually, he’s not the type of guy that filled dirty thoughts in his head on a daily basis. But every time that nameless boy appeared, his mind would suddenly lose all control and let the fever between his legs take over. Harrison turned around to grind the beans, hoping some fresh Arabian coffee could keep him numb from the fragrance upon that boy’s skin. _Chill out, Harrison Osterfield,_ he told himself. Maybe he should just go grab a glass of cold water after finishing this order, and leave whoever else deal with palm leaf boy’s business.

However, just when he handed the drink to the customer and was ready to call his co-worker, the boy cut in immediately.

“Hi again, Harrison.”

His stomach strained when the boy called his name. _Why does he never shut up?_ Harrison hated how defenceless he was in this situation. The boy got his name hanging on the tip of his tongue, chewing and tasting it like a candy he stole from the jar, then paying nothing back for his disgraceful victory. And Harrison still didn’t know a thing about this boy other than him being a dancer and a pretentious little bitch. _You’re a guy that wears perfumes, where’s your manner at?_

But all Harrison could utter was a dull “Hi” after all the trainwreck in his head. He put on a stiff smile, trying to come up with something constructive to make himself less awkward. “So, what would you like for today?” He asked, even though he already walked toward the espresso machine. “Still the same? Or you wanna try something new?”

The boy shrugged, brushing his fringe again. “I don’t know. Like what?”

“Try other flavours, perhaps? Different syrup? Whipped cream? Or maybe—”

“No! Definitely not the whipped cream.”

Harrison raised his head up, “Not a fan of whipped cream?”

“Well…” The boy gasped. The hesitation in his voice suggested the answer to Harrison’s question was opposite. “It’s just…my trainer will kill me, you know.”

The mischievous smile on his face gradually faded into a nervous one. Harrison had seen that kind of expression before; that’s the same face his niece made when he asked her to save her chocolate after dinner. All of sudden, Harrison could feel the rebellious switch in his head being turned on. He had never had such strong urge to challenge someone’s will like this.

“S’not like I’m gonna tell him.” He gave the boy a smug face as he pulled the espresso shot, “C’mon, just a little bit won’t ruin your diet.”

Without a doubt, the idea did sound tempting to the boy. Harrison watched him biting his lower lip from the reflection of the stainless kettle, and he couldn’t help but put on a gratified smile. The boy might be good at playing games with his expression, but right now his struggle was all written on his face. Eventually, he took a deep breath, blinking his eyes at Harrison. “…Just a little bit?”

“Sure.” Harrison grinned at him as he poured in the steaming milk. Then he picked up the cream can, squeezing a swirl of cream at the top of the coffee that was overflowing the mug. “Oops.” He made a teasing sound as he heard the boy groan. _That’s right. You don’t get to dominate the situation all the time_.

“That would be £2.85.” He said in a perky tone, sprinkling cinnamon powder above the cream. “The topping is free, my treat.”

He presented his proud work on the counter. The cream could barely stand on the top as the heat slowly melted it into the drink. If the manager ever caught him disrespecting coffee like this, the boy probably wouldn’t get to see him here the next Wednesday. Still, Harrison was willing to take the risk, because the look on that boy’s face right now was priceless. His customer was now frowning at the cream that was almost as tall as the mug itself, then he looked up to glare at the barista, with a shallow smile hanging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re so mean.”

The boy held the mug up, staring at the white cream. He put the mug closer to his half-opened mouth, hesitated for a second, and then took a tender bite, gracefully sipping the soft material. The heat was flushing his cheeks with redness, and the steam was making his eyes misty. Perhaps that’s why he decided to close his eyes, then he moved his lips and the tip of his tongue to invite the softness inside.

_Who the hell eat their cream like that?_

It was a bit too late for Harrison to realise it was a terrible idea. He should probably stop staring and get back to work, but he couldn’t withdraw his attention from what was happening right in front of him. And the boy was too concentrating on the coffee to notice his stare. The drink was still hot, so he took each of his sip slowly and attentively. The white cream left a mark on his upper lip. He wiped it away with his finger, putting it into his mouth. Then he stuck his tongue out to taste the remained flavour on his lips.

Harrison’s jeans were tighter than ever.

“I like it.” The boy put down the mug, chuckling, “You know what? It might actually ruin my diet.”

Harrison didn’t reply. There weren’t enough brain cells left for him to handle more than one thing at once. All he did was squeeze a crooked smile at the boy, and keep his lower body hidden behind the counter.

He couldn’t be more relieved when he saw Jacob walking out of the kitchen. “Hey man,” he said, praying that Jacob wouldn’t notice how breathless he was, “could you take care of the front desk? I need to use the bathroom.”

Before Jacob gave him a reply, Harrison had already fled into the staff’s bathroom. He leaned his body against the wall tiles, hoping that the coldness might calm him down faster. But that still couldn’t wipe off the image of boy and those motherfucking cream around his mouth. Harrison slammed his own face, with another hand unzipping his jeans in shame. While making the quick release for himself, Harrison made a promise that if he saw that boy walk into the door next week, he would just dash inside the kitchen and never come out.

 

The week flashed promptly as Harrison found himself back at the counter on another Wednesday morning. London’s typical bad whether hit the city again with a small rain, which gave Harrison some flashback that he would rather not recall.

Fortunately (or perhaps not), when that boy pushed the door open again at 9:22, he was holding an umbrella. And for the love of God, he’s not wearing a white t-shirt.

“Hi.” The boy put on his classic smile. His red flannel was partly soaking, luckily it wasn’t enough for the fabric to reveal whatever was underneath. Even though Harrison still hated that he could only smile back like an idiot, totally throwing his promise to himself away.

“Same old?”

“Sure.” The boy shrugged, “But please—no cream this time!”

_Of course. Never again._

Harrison managed to finish the order without setting another trap for himself to fall in. He let out a reliving sigh after watching the boy walk up to his favourite spot by the window. Then he turned around, almost bump into Jacob, who’s crossing his arms at Harrison with a quirky smile.

“Happy to see your boyfriend?”

“What?”

“You know what I’m talking about, mate.”

“Shut up, Jacob.” Harrison turned to reach the kettle, avoiding Jacob’s tease. But the big guy wasn’t done with him yet. He stepped forward and shoved a bag of coffee beans in front of Harrison to block his way.

“C’mon man, haven’t you noticed the way you talked to him? Your cheeks were redder than fresh coffee berries. And your hands were visibly shaking when he gave you the cash.”

“That’s not true.” Harrison protested, instantly checking his hands.

Jacob wriggled his eyebrows. “Okay? Then what’s all about that you’ve been switching shifts with Josh on Wednesday morning?”

“It’s-it’s because I don’t have classes and don’t wanna work on the weekends. Simple as that.”

“You only started doing this a few weeks ago—”

“—How about you stop and help me fix up the mess here? We have so many cups to wash.”

Harrison cleared his throat as he ducked three clean mugs into the sink. Jacob made a complaining noise. “Let’s be real, you even remember all his preference! Every time he walks in, you’re already making his vanilla latte—”

“It’s a triple shot latte, non-fat, light foam, with a drizzle of...uh.” It was too late for Harrison to stop himself from blurting out the sentence. “Fuck.”

“Holy shit.” Jacob widened his eyes at his best friend, who was trying to hide his red face behind the espresso machine. “Little Harrison is seriously in love this time.”

Harrison ignored him, pouring the entire bag of coffee beans into the machine to overwhelm Jacob’s giggling. But he soon realised it wasn’t a smart decision, since Jacob had to raise his voice now.

“Look, I’m really happy that you’ve finally found yourself a boyfriend! S’time for you to settle down.” Jacob’s voice was so loud that Harrison immediately turned to look at the window seats. But the boy had put his headphones on, focusing on his laptop. “You don’t need to hide it from me. There’s no secret between us.”

“Keep your voice down!” Harrison nudged him with his elbow, “And he’s not my boyfriend, okay?”

“Not your boyfriend? So are you guys, like, just hooking up?”

“Stop it! Nothing happened between us, alright? I don’t even—”

But Jacob didn’t seem to be convinced at all, “Really? Are you the Harrison Osterfield I know? What happened to our king of clubbing? If we were in a bar, you would be taking him home before we even finished the first round—”

“Boys!” An unhappy voice interrupted their conversation. “If you’re done chatting, would you maybe go clean up the table there?”

“Sorry, Laura.” Jacob turned around and grinned cheekily at the senior girl, “We just got a bit excited talking about Haz’s new boyfriend.”

“For the last time he’s not my—”

“Oh?” The impatience in Laura’s voice softened and transferred into curiosity. “Laura! Don’t listen to—” Harrison tried to explain, but Laura ignored him and pointed at the distance with her chin. “You mean that boy sitting by the window? With his headphones on?”

Harrison widened his eyes, “What-seriously, Laura?!”

“Oh you poor little thing.” Laura giggled and gave him a wink. Jacob was laughing relentlessly next to her. “It’s so obvious that even this sugar pot knows.”

She put the sugar pot back in the cabinet with a teasing smile while Harrison’s face flushed with redness. “I—Okay, fine, listen. He might be a bit cute, alright? But that’s it!” He added quickly when he noticed Jacob was about to say something again, “That’s all. S’not even that deep. I mean, I don’t even know his name.”

Jacob opened his arms with his palms up, genuinely confused. “Then why don’t you ask him?”

“Because that’s weird! Why in the world would I do that?”

“What’s so weird about that?” Laura had officially joined the discussion. She seemed to forget about the chores already. “He’s here every week! We know most of our regular comers’ names. It’s pretty common. Just go ahead and ask him in a friendly way.”

“And ask him on a date, too.” Jacob added with a laugh.

“Give me a break!” Harrison turned his head away, spinning a portafilter in his hands. “I’m just—look, there’s no way I’m gonna hit on him. Y’know, he’s-he’s probably…probably…he’s probably not even interested in dudes.”

Harrison thought that could finally shut his co-workers, but turned out they weren’t even concerned at all.

“He’s wearing flannel on denim.” Jacob pointed it out, “That’s gay culture.”

“How is that even—”

“And he’s watching _Queer Eye_.” Laura looked over at the boy’s laptop.

“Well I watch _Misfits_ but I’m not a delinquent nor do I have a superpower.”

“Relax, my dude.” Jacob threw his arm around Harrison’s shoulders. “If you never try, you’ll never know! Even if he turns you down, it’s not the end of the world. You’re the man who had been rejected by three colleges. This is just a piece of cake.”

Harrison rolled his eyes, “Wow. Thank you so much. That really helps a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” Jacob didn’t grasp one bit of the sarcasm in Harrison’s words, “Just go ahead and talk to him! And who knows, he could be waiting for you to initiate some moves, too.”

“Huh, why would he want me to do that?”

“He comes here every week! Think about that.”

“That proves nothing. We have customers who show up every day.” Harrison swiped Jacob’s arm away, “He might just be free every Wednesday morning.”

It was Jacob who rolled his eyes this time, “Oh yeah? Then when did he decide to spend his free time here every Wednesday morning?”

That quickly brought a moment of silence between the two of them. Harrison stared at his best friend, who’s shrugging at him with a smirk. He tried to look for words in his empty head to retort back, but at the end all he could come up with was “we should clean up those God damn tables.”

Supposing that he had dropped enough hints, Jacob didn’t go any further. However Harrison still didn’t quite appreciate that, especially when his mind had been filled with too many unnecessary thoughts. He grabbed a washcloth and the cleaner spray, heading over a seat that was three tables away from the boy. His yet-to-be boyfriend was cackling at whatever was happening on the screen, completely unware that he was the central topic of a discussion happening a few minutes ago.

 _He could be here for any reason_ , Harrison pondered while wiping the table. Maybe it’s because they had free WiFi here, maybe it’s because the shop was closer to his place than the one he used to go. Maybe he had cancelled his class on Wednesday morning. Or maybe he simply enjoyed the coffee here.

But maybe—even for the smallest possibility—maybe Jacob was right. Maybe the boy was actually waiting for Harrison to walk upon him and ask him about his name, about the reason why he chose to spend every Wednesday morning in this coffee shop, and if he would like to spend every Wednesday night in Harrison’s apartment too. Or, even better, _every_ night.

“Jesus Christ.”

Harrison whispered to himself. He’s pretty sure if he walked into the rain right now, all the raindrop would evaporate because of the heat on his cheeks. _Maybe_ , Harrison made one last assumption, maybe he should just drink up this bottle of soup and hopefully it could clean up his mind.

 

The conversation with Jacob and Laura was still haunting Harrison after an entire week, and only went worse when the boy appeared at the front door again. He’s wearing a raglan with the print of _Amazing Spider-Man_ from 1999, and his smile was as bright as the weather outside.

“Good morning, Harrison.”

He suddenly wanted to blame his parents for giving him a name with so many egressive sounds. The last thing he needed to do now was imagine the boy whispering and panting out his name.

“Hey.” Harrison tried to act as cool as possible, “Fan of Spider-Man?”

“Of course!” The fanboy jumped a little as to show off his merchandise, “I tried to convince my parents to let me go to _The Amazing Spider-Man_ ’s premiere, but I was like 16, so they wouldn’t let me.”

“Well, if I’m honest, I like the original trilogy better. I mean—” Harrison changed his tone as soon as he spotted the boy pouting, “Andrew’s Spidey sure had great potential, but it wasn’t shown enough in the stories. It’s a pity.”

“Yeah,” The boy didn’t sound quite impressed, “but Andrew is cuter, though.”

It’s not such breaking news for someone to find Andrew Garfield attractive. But to Harrison it was on a different level when it came from a boy who gave him a boner in the middle of his work. _Is Andrew your type? Are dudes even your type?_ Harrison swallowed the questions back before he made more impulsive decisions.

“So, latte again?”

“Actually no.” The boy gave him an unexpected answer, “The heat is crazy today. Might as well have something cold instead.”

“Makes sense.” Harrison nodded, “What would you like to have, then?”

“I have no idea, honestly.” Said the boy as he leaned closer to the counter, “Perhaps you can give me some suggestion, Mr. Barista?”

Those words sounded like they were ripped off from some terribly scripted porn, and Harrison had to hold the edge of the desk to keep himself steady. “Sure.” He spoke without confirming with his brain, “Anything for you, Mr. Parker.”

The boy burst into laughter, but right now Harrison only wanted to run into the kitchen and dive himself into the boiling water. He’s pretty sure that if he was in a crowded club, two shots away from passing out, he could still flirt with a stranger better than this. He wished he knew a much politer way to ask someone, “Hey, you’re super cute, and I really wanna bend you over right on this counter. Let’s bang in the bathroom after my shift’s over, shall we?” But he didn’t even have the courage to ask the boy’s name.

It took him a few seconds to finally come back to earth. “Well,” he scanned through the menu, “you may want to try our cold brew coffee?”

“What is that?”

Harrison raised his head up. At first he assumed the boy was being playful, but those brown eyes were blinking at him with curiosity that didn’t seem to be false. Harrison thought the boy at least had some sort of knowledge in coffee and should have heard of the term, but it appeared like all his specific preferences with his drink were for nothing but the purpose of being pretentious. Harrison couldn’t help wondering if that’s also what he did with his diva-ish presence, that he was in fact all submissive when he’s under someone’s body.

“Uh.” Harrison had to wipe away the inappropriate thoughts in his mind before proceeding with a professional answer, “It’s pretty much steeping coffee grounds in cold water for long period of time, usually takes 20 hours and more.”

“Sounds like a lot of work.”

“Yeah, but the result is worthy though.” Harrison explained, “It’s more smooth and mellow, low in acidity, and keeps the natural flavour of the beans. It does require a lot of time, but unlike iced coffee, it doesn’t spoil that easily, and has lower bitterness.”

“That’s sick.” The boy gave him a subtle smile, one that Harrison couldn’t tell what it was all about. “Guess I would take your suggestion then. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Harrison really hated how dumb his voice came out, “I need to go inside. You can go find a seat first, I would bring it to you later.”

The boy grinned, “Sure. You know where my favourite spot is.”

If Harrison hadn’t been spending the past few weeks getting off with the ghost of this boy in his mind, he might as well give him a punch in his face one day. He pushed open the door behind him, trying his best not to scream specially when he saw Jacob walking in his direction.

“Weren’t you busy making latte for your prince charming?” asked Jacob. Harrison sighed deeply, too frustrated to banter with him, “He ordered cold brew today.”

“That’s a sign, mate!” Jacob cheered and smacked his back, almost knocking over the cold brew tower. “Today is the day you both make a change.”

Harrison didn’t even have the strength to retort. When he came back to the counter, the boy was already sitting by the window, holding his chin at the laptop. Although Jacob’s words were mostly joking, Harrison had to admit it did feel like a turning point. _Hey Spidey_ , he heard his own voice talking in his head as he poured the coffee into the glass, _you might want to swing by my place tonight, and let me serve you something tasty?_

“Ugh.” Harrison immediately felt ashamed of himself. He took a quick glance at the window, as if that boy could hear what was going on in his mind. Eventually, he shook his head hopelessly, putting the glass on the tray.

The boy wasn’t watching reality shows on his laptop this time. Instead, he was too concentrating on his essay to even notice Harrison’s approaching. _That’s a sign!_ Jacob’s words echoed by his ears. Harrison nipped his lower lip. _Hey_ , this time the voice in his head sounded much friendlier and way more rational, _I was wondering maybe I could have your name?_

Then all of sudden, he heard the chorus of _Versace on the Floor_ blasting out loud from nowhere. Harrison’s hand was hovering in the air, but he couldn’t help but follow Bruno’s voice and drift his attention to the phone on the table. The lockscreen showed that the incoming call was from someone named “Z” with a crown and a unicorn emoji. And the profile picture was a pretty girl with dark curly hair, smiling at Harrison while the Spider Boy wrapped his hand around her waist, kissing on her cheek.

The next second, Harrison dropped the entire glass of coffee on that boy.

 

“I’m really—I’m really sorry.”

Harrison couldn’t think of a worse situation than this. Ironically, in other conditions, this might be the best situation he had ever put himself in. Because right now he’s alone in the staff room with the one person who constantly visited his wet dream, except this time the boy was taking off his shirt in reality.

And most importantly, Harrison finally had his name, even his number.

“This doesn’t usually happen. I mean…this should just never happen. I’m-I’m so sorry.” Harrison lost count of how many times he had apologized, “Tom.”

The boy named Tom turned around with a friendly smile, “It’s okay.” He replied mildly while cleaning himself up with the towel Harrison handed to him, “I’m one hell of clumsy disaster too. If you didn’t spill the coffee on me, I might do it myself.”

Tom started laughing to himself, but Harrison didn’t feel any better. Luckily it wasn’t some hot drink that he dropped, nor did the broken glasses splatter on Tom.

“You didn’t get hurt, right?” Harrison had to check.

“I’m all good, really.” Tom reassured, wiping off a spot on Spider-Man’s mask, “But you would be fine, right?”

Harrison was not following, “What?”

“You wouldn’t get into trouble for this, would you?” Tom stopped his hands, looking up at Harrison full of concern. “I would still see you here next week?”

 _Why do you even care?_ Harrison almost yelled, but he contained himself and shrugged, “Only if you won’t write a complaint to my manager.”

“Of course I won’t!” Tom’s face was all brightened up, “That’s great. I will come pick up my shirt next week, then.”

“I’ll call you once I get it from the laundry, so you don’t need to wait for a week,” said Harrison. It wasn’t really how he imagined getting Tom’s number was like.

“I don’t mind waiting. But well, if it helps keeping your job, I won’t stop you.” He unfolded the clean piece of clothes offered by Harrison earlier, “Whose jersey is this?”

“Mine.” Harrison sighed. He’s glad that he had some extra clothes in his locker.

“You’re a fan of _Manchester United_ too?” Tom’s voice was full of excitement, “I kinda don’t wanna return this to you.”

“Keep it all you want. I don’t care.”

It was a bit late when Harrison noticed the nonchalance in his own voice. Tom put down the jersey, along with the smile that was always on his face. He stared at Harrison; there wasn’t anger in his eyes, but more of confusion and a little bit hurt. Harrison thought he couldn’t get himself more embarrassing, but he really was straight up rolling down the slope.

“Uh…” Harrison looked away. He knew exactly what resulted in the coldness in his attitude, even though it was completely unfair to Tom. “Shouldn’t you call your girlfriend back? She might be getting worried.”

Tom was absent for a few seconds, “My what?”

“Your girlfriend.” Harrison repeated, trying to sound as calm as possible. “The girl on your phone—uh, I didn’t mean to look at it, I was just…”

He was still looking for a better excuse, but Tom just broke into laughter abruptly.

“My girl—? Oh my God!” He was laughing so hard that he had to bury his face into his hands, “This is the most hilarious thing I’ve ever heard, I can’t believe this. She’s not my girlfriend!”

Harrison was frozen. He was not prepared for this kind of reaction. “Uh…what?”

“We’re really close friends, but not in that kind of relationship.” Tom was still laughing, even with tears coming out of his eyes. Harrison wasn’t sure if he grasped Tom’s words entirely. “Oh, um,” Harrison found himself talking exactly like Jacob, “then what kind of relationship is that?”

“The kind that we just talk about everything.”

“Like what?”

“Like,” Tom replied in a lazy, drawling tone, “the cute barista I met in a coffee shop on Victoria Street.”

Before Harrison figured out what he was talking about, Tom had already started stripping.

There were too many things happening at once, and Harrison’s brain could not comprehend what exactly he was looking at right now. Those curves and lines that he used to stare at underneath the dim lights were now completely exposed in front of his eyes without any extra fabric. The dirty shirt slid down to the floor as Tom turned around to pick up the jersey. Then he straightened his body, brushing his falling fringe aside, and gazing right into Harrison’s eyes.

Harrison wasn’t sure where he was supposed to put his eyes on, or what he should be thinking about. But all he could do was watch Tom putting the jersey above his head, making his arms through the sleeves, then letting the gravity do the rest of the thing. The thin cloth fell off gracefully like the final curtain to the show, rolling down to cover up the bare body until it couldn’t be seen anymore. Harrison was suddenly so jealous of his own jersey, getting to be so intimate with the skins that he didn’t even dare to touch.

“A bit too big for me, but pretty comfy.” Tom’s voice was soft and slow, “Is that why you dropped that coffee on me?”

But the owner of the jersey could barely make a sound. Harrison was leaning his back against the wall, having no way to escape. Tom had already stepped in front of him, making the distance between them narrow than ever. Then his hand climbed up to Harrison’s chest, arranging the collars gently. Harrison could hardly breathe, especially when Tom was looking up at him with his innocent eyes, whispering, “You should be more confident about yourself, Haz.”

As if the whole story couldn’t get any more bizarre, the spaces between their faces suddenly disappeared.

Harrison couldn’t tell if he was still alive, because right now his entire life was flashing before his eyes. Even if he wasn’t dead, his soul was barely in the shell anymore. The only thing he knew was that the boy he had been daydreaming all day long was pressing his lips on him, with both of his hands traveling underneath his apron. Harrison felt like he should probably do something as well, but his entire body was so stiff that he couldn’t even close his eyes.

So he just fixed his back onto the wall, inhaling the fragrance mixed with white musk and coffee upon Tom’s skin while Tom pushed his mouth open with his tongue. Tom’s hands were somewhere around his waist, drifting up and down mischievously, meanwhile Harrison was nothing but a defenceless toy to him. And _fuck_ , Harrison wondered if it’s possible to scream in the middle of a kiss, because he could feel his jeans getting tight again. And with Tom’s body all over his, he’s quite certain that Tom had noticed it too. The little diva opened his eyes, looking down at Harrison’s crotch, then moving back to look at Harrison with a teasing smirk at the corner of his mouth.

“You should probably go back to work.” Tom finally ended the kiss, breathing by Harrison’s ear.

“Umm…ughhhhh” was the only sound Harrison could make.

As Tom slowly withdrew himself from Harrison, the poor barista was finally able to catch a breath. He was still standing by the wall, panting hastily while Tom knelt down to fold up the towel and his Spidey shirt, as if he didn’t just stick his tongue in between someone else’s lips.

“You…uh…” Harrison finally forced a word out of his dry throat, “I…um…do you…you got any…any plan tonight?”

Tom turned around to look at him. Amusement was all written on his face. “Sorry, I was already booked. Gotta go to a movie with my ‘girlfriend’.”

“Oh. Uh.”

“Easy, Mr. Barista.” Tom tossed another smile at him, fixing the string of Harrison’s apron. “That’s what you taught me, wasn’t it? Longer time, lower bitterness, doesn’t spoil easily.”

Harrison felt like each cell in his body was on fire. “So…um…you’d still be here next week…?”

“What are you worried about?” Tom winked at him before walking out of the door, “You have my number, and I have your shirt.”

 

 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :-)


End file.
